


Three Little Words

by someofthissomeofthat11011



Category: Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someofthissomeofthat11011/pseuds/someofthissomeofthat11011
Summary: What if Simon discovers the note from Blue inside the shirt when he’s grounded? Takes place from Simon’s POV.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 191





	Three Little Words

I feel like I’m on fire. Everything feels so unfair right now. My dissatisfaction, anger, humiliation, guilt, sadness. They’ve been growing and growing for weeks. And seem to have culminated in the shit show that happened Friday. How could I have been so stupid? I don’t blame Abby and Nick. I was unreasonable and relentless about that damned shirt. I just hate that now, I don’t even have my lifeline to the outside world. I can’t text Nick or Abby or Leah. I can’t email Blue to try to pick up where we’d left off and I’m certainly not going to check my email from a school computer again. I have never felt so alone. I think it really hit me today, because any other week, I would have been able to see my friends and I’d have a break from the complete isolation I’m experiencing now, but this is a long weekend. Today’s a holiday, so I’m on day 3 of being cooped in my bedroom. I can’t really face my parents and I have no means of contacting the outside world. Yeah, I’m being dramatic. I don’t care.

And yeah, I deserve this. I get that my parents needed to punish me. I came home drunk and was the ultimate asshole. I just hadn’t anticipated how lonely this would feel. Or how much time three days alone with my thoughts is. I have had far too much time to sit with my fury at how unfair my life is right now.

And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that Martin outed me. It’s not fair that my friends and Nora found out from him and not from me. It’s not fair that I had to tell my parents and Alice before I was ready. It’s not fair that my life is happening on someone else’s timeline. It’s not fair that I had to freaking ruin what should have been a great night. It’s not fair that Blue won’t tell me who he is.

He’ll get me a fucking t-shirt, but he won’t tell me who he is.

What is that shirt anyway? It’s been in the back of my mind since I found it in that plastic bag last Monday. Is it his way of showing he cares? Or his way of making sure that if he can’t have me, nobody can?

I’ve reread the note attached to the shirt at least 1000 times over the past week and now that I don’t have my phone or laptop, I am reading it on repeat. I keep willing the words to be different. Or maybe I’m hoping that I’ll discover a secret code. The words are never different and as far as I can tell, there’s no secret code within the message, giving me a clue as to who Blue is. In a half-assed attempt to decode it, I had looked to see if the first letter of each word spelt something out – they don’t and I feel really desperate for thinking that they may have.

I’ve refused to try on the shirt up to this point. It kinda lives under my pillow because I didn’t know what else to do with it. I worry that if I put on the shirt, I’ll lose it completely. It’s bad enough that I’m interested in someone that clearly wants nothing to do with me and is willing to hide behind gifts instead of telling me who he is. But if I’m ever going to get over Blue, I need to start now. If I give in one more inch, I don’t think I’ll come back. I think I’ll be hung up on Blue for the rest of my life.

I have trouble falling asleep that night so a little before midnight, I take a shower. When I get back in bed, I’m wide awake. I stare up at my ceiling, willing myself to fall asleep. I toss and I turn, hoping that maybe a different position will induce the sleep I crave. I count sheep, because why not? I try to recite the states in alphabetical order – I don’t get very far, because I’m so sure I’m forgetting an ‘A’ state and instead of making me tired, it makes me really agitated.

I look at the clock. 12:09am.

There’s no reason for me to be losing sleep over this. I try to convince myself that he’s not worth it. That this boy, who is shutting me out because I guessed wrong and who won’t even face me himself, isn’t worth it. But I guess I know deep down that that isn’t true. I know Blue is worth sleepless nights; he’s worth the anger and sadness and numbness that is currently coursing through me, igniting every fiber of my being; he’s worth the longing for things to be different, for me to be enough for him. Because maybe he’s a freaking coward, but he’s also one of the greatest kids I’ve ever known. He’s kind and funny. He was there for me at a time in my life when I was terrified to let someone in. He helped me feel strong and brave and like I wasn’t alone. I hate him for that. But more than I hate him, I love him for all of that.

I internally coil. I shouldn’t have thought love. I shouldn’t have gone there. But I did. And now, I can’t get that out of my head. I try to convince myself that it can’t be love; that I can’t love someone that I’ve never met in person. However, I know it’s true by the nauseated feeling forming in my stomach and the sudden influx in my heart rate. I close my eyes for a moment, not to try to fall asleep, but to breathe evenly in an attempt to calm myself down. I thought I was jittery before, but nothing compares to how I feel now. Now, I’m not feeling the loss of some hypothetical, internet penpal; I’m feeling the loss of someone that I love deeply. I hate this.

12:24am.

I feel like time is moving slower and faster at the same time. I just want to go to sleep. I’m not the kind of kid that can handle exhaustion – on the rare occasion that I have trouble sleeping, I’m a force to be reckoned with. Everything is amplified when I’m tired – I can feel deliriously happy, overwhelmingly angry, or debilitatingly sad over the smallest things that I usually am able to brush off. With how on edge I’ve been since Christmas, this isn’t going to be a good combination.

It’s dawning on me that I’m only going to get like six and a half hours of sleep if I fall asleep right at this moment. It’s not enough and I’m starting to feel anxious about how miserable tomorrow is going to be.

1:07am.

For a split second, I feel hope. I remind myself that I haven’t been able to check my email since Friday night and I don’t remember checking it before we went out – I didn’t really have time to between the rehearsal for the school and going out with Abby and Nick. I don’t think I’ve really looked at it since Thursday. It is entirely possible that Blue has emailed me, and I just haven’t had the chance to check it. I consider going down to the living room to check it on my laptop, but I can’t use homework as an excuse at this point because I did all my homework on Saturday, and I made a point of telling my parents that yesterday.

As quickly as hope rises up in me, it disappears. Even if Blue emailed me, what could he say that would make a difference?

1:29am

What is even going on? What does my brain want? I’ve thought about Blue endlessly. I’ve accepted that I’m never actually going to know who he is; or at least, I’ve gotten as close as I can to that point. My mind drifts back to that t-shirt. If he doesn’t want anything to do with me, why would he get me that t-shirt?

I thought I knew him – sure, I don’t know his name or what he looks like, but I got to know who he is as a person. I know that he’s quirky and kind and he overthinks everything. He’s perfect. So why would someone so perfect give me a t-shirt and not give me some kind of indication of his interest?

It doesn’t make sense.

1:41am.

I throw my blankets off and growl in frustration. I just want to sleep. I finally give up on that thought and grab the t-shirt. It feels so soft in my hands. Maybe for one night, it will be okay to pretend. Maybe, just for one night, I can feel close to him and I can forget that I’ve lost him. I have this image of me putting on the t-shirt and pretending it’s Blue hugging me, not just the fabric of the shirt. Maybe that will be enough to ease my nerves and allow me to sleep. I can drift off into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of Blue. Sure, I know that I’ll have to deal with the fallout in the morning, but I’m so tired.

There’s a little voice asking if it will be worth it? When I wake up and have to rejoin the real world, will it be better or worse for having pretended?

1:58am.

I guess I don’t have much of a choice. The moment the thought enters my head, it is all consuming, as if this is the only thing that will allow me to sleep. I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t do something and this is all my sleep deprived brain is capable of concocting.

I pull the shirt on over the shirt I’m wearing, but I can’t get it all the way down. At first, I think that maybe it’s twisted in the back, or maybe in my exhaustion, I didn’t get the correct body parts through the correct holes in the shirt. I take it off and carefully line up my arms. I try again. Still, I cannot pull it down.

I figure maybe it’s just being weird and bunching with the shirt I’m currently wearing. I pull it off and it definitely must be the extra layer, because the only way I manage to get it off without taking off my other shirt is by turning it inside out.

And then I freeze.

2:15am.

It isn’t that it had been bunching with my sleep shirt. There is something attached to the shirt that must have been getting caught. There’s another piece of paper. I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate. There’s. Another. Piece. Of. Paper!

I’m so tired, the words swim in front of my eyes and it takes longer than normal for me to read everything that is written.

 _P.S. I love the way you smile like you don't realize you're doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon–gray eyes. So if you think I'm not attracted to you, Simon, you're crazy_.

There’s a number written out at the bottom of the paper. It takes me over a minute to realize it’s a phone number. And another minute before I realize it must be his number. He gave me his phone number!

He hasn’t given up on me. I expect to feel wide away, but somehow, knowing that he did reach out and he didn’t just give me a guilt gift, makes me feel so at peace.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I wake up with his note clutched in my hand. All the excitement I hadn’t felt the night before hits me like a ton of bricks. I need to call him. No. I need to text him.

If I call him, I’ll know who he is and I can shake this longing for this magical love story where I discover who he is in person. That’s how I want to find out. Not through his name on a voicemail or him telling me over the phone.

So, I’ll text him.

But what do I say? I can’t just text him anything. Part of me wants to text him an explanation about why I didn’t text him earlier, but there’s no version of the past week where I don’t look freaking crazy, so I know that’s out of the question.

It’s while I’m sitting on my bed, trying to formulate a text I can send him that reality crashes around me. I don’t have my phone. I’m a monumental idiot. And I came home drunk. And my parents have my phone. So, I can’t text him.

I can’t text him.

I can’t text him.

Nope, it doesn’t become more believable the more I say it.

I can’t believe my freaking luck. Like, he puts himself out there. And I can’t fucking text him? This is so unfair. God, I will never drink again. Never.

I can’t believe it. I hadn’t thought losing my phone would be a big deal. But here I am. Perfect opportunity to use my phone.

And. I. Can’t. Text. Him.

I briefly consider explaining all of this to my parents and explaining exactly why I need my phone back. Because, yeah, I messed up, but I don’t think they’re cruel enough to keep me from Blue. I cringe at the thought of explaining this to them. They make a big deal about everything. God, how do I even begin to think about talking to them about someone that may become my boyfriend at some point?

I entertain the notion of stealing my phone. Just long enough to text Blue. But I dismiss that idea almost immediately because I don’t want to risk a worse punishment and because I know that I deserve the punishment I currently have. It just sucks.

I’m pulled out of my pity party because Nora is knocking on my door, reminding me that I have to go be a functional person right now. I’m pretty sure that’s a lost cause at this point.

I’m so freaking tired during English I can barely keep my eyes open. Mr. Wise’s voice sounds particularly monotone this morning. He should really consider reading bedtime stories as a side hustle. The moment the thought enters my head, I feel guilty. He’s not really that bad. I’m just exhausted. And pissed at myself. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for doing something to get my phone taken away.

I feel like I’m on auto pilot through my entire day. I can’t tell you what I learned in school or what happened at play practice. Practice gets out so late in preparation for the play on Friday that by the time I get home, I’m figuratively dead on my feet. I don’t remember eating dinner or doing my homework, but I know I do them before I change into my pajamas. And I’m so exhausted, I fall asleep the moment I get into bed.

When I wake up the next morning, I’m panicking. I’ve got to do something. I decide that it’s worth it to send him an email and explain that I want nothing more than to text him. Even if my parents are reading over my shoulder. I need to let him know that I’m not ignoring him because I don’t like him. I need to explain that I acted like an idiot, and I did a stupid thing.

I don’t have time to send that email before school and I feel like I’m at war with myself. Do I risk sending an email at school? I almost win that war, but at the end of the day, I wouldn’t be the one taking the risk. I would be risking Blue, and I know he would never do that to me in a million years. So, I don’t.

I go to play practice, and Ms. Albright’s frustration with us seems to grow throughout the night. It’s not just me either. Sure, I’m tripping over my feet and messing up, but so is everyone else, so I don’t stand out.

By the time we’re let out, I think we all feel crummy. I don’t even think I’m winning the shitty feelings contest and that’s saying something.

I get home, heat up some leftover lasagna and bring it back to my room. All I want to do is be by myself. I’m exhausted after play practice and I still haven’t recovered from my stupidity preventing me from reaching out to Blue. The only thing that calms me down is remembering that he clearly doesn’t want nothing to do with me. I need that reminder. I dig through my bag to find his note, but it’s not there.

And I have a thought. The thought you can only have if you did something reckless and you suddenly realize that history may be repeating itself.

_This can’t be fucking happening again._

I empty out my entire bag over the side of my bed and meticulously look through all the school supplies that are scattered across my bedroom floor.

Nothing.

I check my trash, but it’s newly emptied. My mom must have emptied it. She never used to do that, but recently has been finding different reasons to come into my room. I don’t know what she expects to find.

I stand up and put my hands on my head. It doesn’t really help. I still feel like my world is threatening to collapse beneath me.

And then I see it. It’s sitting on my desk, writing facing my ceiling. I don’t remember putting it there, but I’m so grateful I did.

The relief that fills me is the best feeling in the world. Okay. Maybe not. But the sudden absence of dread and despair is amazing.

I grab his note and go back to sit on my bed. I have the words memorized, but there’s something soothing about reading his writing.

I’m mid bite when my parents come in my bedroom.

“Can I sit?” My mom asks. I internally groan. We never really talked about Friday. I think partially because they were so angry. And probably because, what do you say to what I did?

I sit up and try to inconspicuously flip over Blue’s note. My mom sits on the edge of my bed and my dad sits in my desk chair.

“Let me guess. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, and I was disrespectful,” I say emotionlessly. I think I learned my lesson more than they ever could have imagined.

“Well, yeah. But also…” My mom and dad exchange looks.

“I’m sorry,” my dad says after an uncomfortably long silence.

“Huh?” I ask. I’m not fully able to comprehend that he just apologized, because what does he have to apologize for?

“About what you said on Friday. About the gay jokes,” he says slowly. He’s not looking at me.

“Oh.” I don’t really know what to say to that. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I was out of line. I know you don’t mean them. I was just… going through some stuff,” I explain quickly.

My dad nodded. “I know you were. And I know I didn’t make that stuff any easier. In case it got lost in translation, I love you. Like, a lot. And there’s nothing you could do or be that would make me love you any less.”

I’m seriously in danger of crying. I keep waiting for the joke, because my dad can’t have a serious conversation without throwing in a joke, but I guess he’s trying something new today, because the joke never comes. I mean, it does. But it’s not like his usual jokes. “I hope that helps you remember that you have two hardcore, badass, freaking cool parents.” I chuckle. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say I love you back or if I’m supposed to confirm what he said about cool parents. I guess I don’t need to say anything, because my dad gets real serious again. “I’m going to work on this. I want you to know that. I’m going to work on being more mindful about the jokes I tell. That’s on me. I know I didn’t make it easy for you to come out and I didn’t make it easy for you to be yourself with me, but I’m going to work on that.”

“You get to be you now, Simon,” my mom said softly.

There’s no holding back the tears now. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until this exact moment. And for the first time, I feel that. I feel like I get to be me. And I know where to start. “For the record, I knew you were joking. That’s not the reason I didn’t want to come out.”

“Can I ask what the reason was?” my mom asks.

“It’s that… you guys are excited about everything. And don’t get me wrong, I think that’s great, but sometimes it’s a lot. It’s like I change my socks and everyone in the family needs to know about it and we all need to talk about it. And I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want this to change how you see me,” I say quietly. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, because it’s not this big, new thing. It’s just a small part of who I am.”

“You’ve got to understand that it’s hard for us to miss stuff. When you were little, we saw everything. We saw your first steps, your first words, your first smile. And now, it seems like so much life happens, and we don’t even know about it. So, when we get to be a part of something, it’s hard to hold ourselves back. You’re just so grown-up now.” My mom is crying which kinda makes my heart feel like it’s being put through a paper shredder.

“I’m seventeen. I’m supposed to be growing up. Isn’t that a good thing?” I ask.

“Of course. But we’re allowed to be sad for all the things we’ve been missing,” my dad explains. He and my mom look at each other again and I get the idea that they’re having some kind of conversation.

“Listen,” my mom says. She pokes my foot and instinctively, I bend my knee to bring my foot closer to me. “Could you just humor us? Keep us in the loop about the big stuff and we’ll try to give you your space?”

“Fair enough,” I agree.

“Is there anything that you want to tell us about?” My mom asks. I get the idea that she’s looking for something specific, but I can’t fathom what that would be. I briefly wondered if the school had called about someone vandalizing the cast list to change my name to fag’s boy, but I don’t think she would have waited this long to bring that up.

“I don’t think so.”

She looked disappointed, reaffirming my thought that she was looking for something specific. She nods and stands up.

“Okay,” my dad says quietly. In his own way, he kinda looks disappointed too. “We have something for you.”

I look at him curiously. He tosses something to me, and I don’t realize until I catch it that it’s my phone.

“Just in case there’s someone that’s waiting for you to call or text,” my mom says quietly.

I don’t understand her words at first. And when I do, I feel numb. She knows. She has to know. But how can she know? How could she have found out? Could she have read the note when she was taking out my trash? I shake my head. I’ve got to be reading too much into this.

“You’ll get your laptop back on Friday if you remember all of your lines,” my dad adds.

“But I don’t have any lines.” Part of me expects this to be a joke and for him to snatch my phone back.

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you,” my dad says with a grin. “Night kid.”

He and my mom leave my room and I’m half convinced I imagined everything. Except my phone is in my hand.

I open it and have about fifty text messages. In the back of my head, I register that not one of them is from Leah. She’s skipped lunch the last two days, and I was so sure that she would have texted me or something.

I have to find her tomorrow.

But right now? I have much more pressing things to think about.

What do I say to Blue? Do I go really simple and just say hi? Do I thank him for giving me his number? Do I acknowledge how often he used the word love in his note? Do I tell him how excited I am to be able to talk to him outside of email?

I go back and forth, but in the end, I decide to keep it simple. Three little words.

_hey its Simon_

I obsessively check my phone after I press send. I keep convincing myself that in the time it took me to lock my phone, a message may have come in and I didn’t get the alert about it because my messages were open, resulting in me opening and closing my messages about ten times a second before I realize that I’m not going to make him respond to me quicker by chronically checking my messages.

He doesn’t answer me that night and when I wake up in the morning, there’s still no answer. I rationalize that it was pretty late when I sent the text, so he may not have seen it before he went to sleep and maybe he hasn’t had a chance to check it this morning yet.

I spend almost the entire day worried that I waited too long. If I had found the note before my drunken escapades Friday, maybe things would be different. Maybe I would have gotten a text from him by now.

I feel like crap by the time play practice rolls around. Partially because I haven’t heard back from Blue and partially because Leah and I got into a freaking fight. Over nothing. Because, yeah, we should have invited her I guess, but Leah takes everything so personally and she is so mean about things. And it sucks.

And then it happens. When I finish play practice, I have a missed call from Blue. It came in right after school, but I didn’t have the chance to check my phone during play practice today. Thank goodness play practice is so short today because it is the dress rehearsal, and Ms. Albright wants us to rest before the craziness of this weekend.

My heart pounds in my chest as I open voicemail. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment that he’s going to tell me who he is. It’s not exactly my in-person meeting fantasy, but knowing him, it’ll be something special.

I shakily press play. It takes me a moment to fully comprehend what’s happening on the voicemail, but my heart sinks as I realize that Blue pocket dialed me. That doesn’t stop me from replaying my voicemail over and over again, because I’m sure that in the jumble of indecipherable voices is my Blue.

I briefly consider calling him back and pretending that I didn’t listen to the voicemail, but I can’t do that to him. It’s not even about me wanting to meet him in person. If he hasn’t reached out to me, maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me. And what if his name is part of his voice message? While the temptation to find out who he is, is almost overwhelming; the only thing stronger is respecting that he has the right to tell me who he is on his own schedule, if he chooses to do that at all. To call him feels like I would be taking the same thing from him that Martin took from me, even if it’s on a much smaller scale, and I cannot do that to him. Not unless I know he wants me to.

I can’t shake the need to reach out to him, so while I’m sitting in my car in the school parking lot, I send him a text. _Did u mean to call_

I have a response before I get home and it takes all of my self-control to wait until I pull into my driveway to open my phone.

And it’s Abby. She talked to Martin and now she wants to talk to me. I feel my heart sink. Did Martin tell her everything? Is that why she wants to talk? I mentally have an image of her threatening to beat up Martin for me. I know it shouldn’t, but it makes me smile.

It’s the only reason I call her.

I’m a fucking idiot. I had no clue. No fucking clue.

Of all the things I’ve been worrying about and feeling guilty about, Abby didn’t even make the list. Because I figured she would understand.

And in the grand scheme of things, I figured all I did was create opportunities for her to hang out with Martin, which seemed harmless to me.

And I’d done such a crappy job at that, that he outed me.

I never, not in a million years, saw this coming.

I’m still frozen in my car after she ends the call.

This hurts worse than Leah because Abby’s words echo inside my head. _I choose who I date. I would think you would understand that._ And she’s right. I do understand that, probably better than most.

When I get inside, I go straight to my bedroom. I don’t think I could eat if I tried.

The only thing that draws me out of my head is the ding of my phone and I’m so sure it’s Nick or Leah telling me how much they hate me that I don’t check it right away. I don’t feel like doing anything right now and I’m hoping a shower will pull me out of my weird mood.

I check my phone as I’m getting out of bed to take the shower. And then suddenly, a shower is the last thing on my mind.

It’s Blue

He answered me.

_Hey, sorry – that’s embarrassing. I guess my pocket must have called you. I’m so glad you texted me! I didn’t think I was going to hear from you._

Of course, his grammar was perfect, even for a text.

I quickly text him back. _Yeah long story. I didnt find your note right away and then I was grounded. I would have texted you the day i got the shirt if i knew your # had been inside_

I shower as quickly as possible. When I get out, I have a response.

_I’ve got time for a long story._

I grin. It is still pretty early and I don’t think anyone expects me to do homework the night before a play, so I flop down on my bed and send him a response.

We go back and forth for hours. Blue is utterly perfect. He’s reassuring and acts indignant that my phone was taken away, even though I’m 100% sure that he feels like I deserved the punishment I got.

We text until I get the message from him at 10:30pm. _I know you have the play tomorrow, so I want you to go get some rest. Break a leg tomorrow. Can’t wait to see you!_

My heart is racing. Putting aside how freaking thoughtful and perfect he is. He’s coming to the play. He’s going to see me perform.

I’m pretty sure I sleep with a smile on my face. And I can’t quite shake it all day. Yeah, there’s a lot that should erase my smile, but somehow, I just feel okay today. I don’t feel as overwhelmed and I feel hopeful that things with Abby and Leah will be okay.

That doesn’t stop me from skipping lunch. Plus, Blue texted me before French and I didn’t have chance to answer him in class, so spending lunch in the library would give me the perfect opportunity.

I love this texting thing.

I love not having to wait.

It’s just great.

By the time I turn my phone off for the play, Blue and I have sent more texts than emails… well, not quite. But we’re getting close to that.

I’m having so much trouble sitting still while Brianna does my make-up. It’s a mix of nerves about the play, all my emotions about Abby and Leah, and my excitement over Blue.

I think the play goes well. I don’t trip during any of the dance numbers. Taylor, Abby, and yes, even Martin, are perfect.

When I get back to the dressing room, there is a small group of girls congregated in a circle. Taylor spots me. “This came for you,” she calls.

I walk closer and she’s holding a single rose. I know my parents are in the audience, likely with some kind of ridiculously extravagant bouquet, so I can’t imagine who this is from.

I guess I should have known. _You were amazing! <3 Blue_

I text him a picture of the rose and a quick thank you. Like I said, he’s freaking perfect. Things are still weird with Abby. She disappears after the play without saying a word. She’s the only one that doesn’t have something to say about my rose and how utterly romantic this is.

Like I didn’t already know that.

I leave and sure enough, my parents have the most ridiculous bouquet I’ve ever seen. Their bouquet is beautiful and all, but all I can think about is Blue’s rose and the fact that he’d thought to get me something.

He gives me another rose the next night and I feel like I’m going to explode. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. I can’t believe he went to see me twice. His second note said: _You were just as good the second time! I love being able to see you on stage. <3 Blue_

There he goes. Dropping the L bomb again. I feel all tingly. It’s almost unbearable and at the same time, is the most wonderful feeling in the world.

He’s so humble when I thank him. it’s like he really doesn’t think it’s a big deal. We text pretty late and while I know I can sleep in tomorrow, I need to go to bed soon if I want to be well rested enough for the matinee. Feeling brave, right before I go to sleep, I text him.

_When will I get to meet you?_

I don’t get an answer and I’m internally kicking myself as I head to the play. If Brianna thought putting my makeup on the last two days was hard, she’s got another thing coming. I’m terrified that I scared him away. I never wanted to pressure him or move things too fast. I’m just desperate to know who he is.

Despite all my fear that I was too much for him, by the time the matinee gets out, there’s another rose waiting for me. _They say third time’s the charm, but I think you knocked all three of your performances out of the park <3 Blue p.s. I hope that’s not too cheesy_

I am crazy smiling and I don’t care. It’s not the rose. Or even the note, really. It’s about him. And how in love with him I am.

I turn on my phone and after a moment, it dings, letting me know I have a text. I know without looking at it that it’s from Blue. There’s so much happening right now – we’re all getting changed, which is taking forever because none of us can quite believe the play is over. And then we have to strike the set and move everything to storage. It’s almost 6 before I actually get out.

We’re all heading right to the carnival, because it’s essentially our cast party. As everyone pulls out around me, I take a minute to finally read Blue’s text.

_I’m sorry Simon, I just don’t think I’m ready for the world to know about me yet. Soon, I hope. I know it’s unfair of me to ask, but I hope you’ll wait for me._

I get it. I do. I mean I feel disappointed, but that’s only because I had built this up in my head. Part of me had been so sure that I was going to have this wildly romantic moment where we’d meet at the carnival and go on rides together. Maybe he’d win me a teddy bear. And as they were shutting down the carnival and the lights were going off, maybe we’d share our first kiss.

Or something like that. You know, I didn’t give it too much thought.

That’s a lie. I’ve thought about it far more than I should have. But I’m okay with not having that moment. Because maybe now is the perfect time for me, but I want it to be perfect for both of us before it happens.

_I will wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere_

Once I send my response, I throw my car into reverse and head to the carnival.

It’s easy to forget that Abby is mad at me until our numbers start to dwindle. Then, I start to feel the pang of how different this would be if it me, Abby, and Nick were here together. I long for things to be back to normal. I spot Abby and Nick sitting at a picnic table, holding hands and eating popcorn.

I hesitate. I’m not particularly close with any of the cast members that are left and part of me is dying to clear the air with her. At the same time, I want to give her space.

I guess she senses my internal dilemma or something. I don’t know. She’s much better at this stuff than I am.

She smiles at me and waves me over. I nervously walk towards them. “Hey,” I say quietly.

“Hey,” she says.

Nick is looking down at the table. Is he mad at me too?

No. he’s grabbing the ticket he dropped on the ground. I think I’m getting paranoid. “Sit with us?” Abby asks.

“Are you sure?” I want to. I want to so badly. I just want to make sure she’s really okay with it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” she says. “I totally overreacted.”

“No, Abby. I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should have helped Martin.”

She shrugs. “Eh, I’ve thought about it and you definitely get a pass when you’re being blackmailed. You weren’t trying to get in the way of my love life. Martin was.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I could kiss her. In a platonic way, of course. “Thanks.”

It’s almost like things are back to normal. Except I kind of feel like a third wheel. But in a nice way. And an awkward way.

But mostly, I’m grateful that she forgives me. And I’m glad to be included.

It seems like everything is starting to fall into place.

Except for Leah. I still haven’t been able to catch her. She’s been avoiding lunch, has been getting to class as the late bell rings, and out been leaving class the moment the bell rings to dismiss us.

I don’t catch her until she’s giving Nora a ride home on Tuesday. I can’t wrap my head around why Leah would be giving Nora a ride, but I ignore that and am about to run out to her when my mom coughs to remind me that I’m confined to the house.

“Oh come on. She’s been avoiding me. This is my chance.” I don’t know how convincing I sound.

“You’re grounded. What are you going to learn if I let you go out there?” She asks.

I bite my tongue and manage not to say that I certainly learned enough when I had to wait two weeks to text Blue. But we haven’t talked about it. And I don’t know for sure that she knows. “That I have amazing and understanding parents. Please. She’s my best friend. I need to fix things. We won’t even leave the driveway,” I promise.

My mom sighs. “Go, but you owe me.”

I try not to think about that too much. I’m mid-text to Blue, but I figure he can wait. I shove my phone in my pocket and run outside. Once Nora is out of the passenger seat, I slip into it.

“Get the hell out of my car.” Leah sounds pissed. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe that she would instantly forgive me?

“I’m so freaking sorry Leah.” I feel like I’m about to cry. “About Midtown. About everything.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I know you’re pissed at me. I get that.” She doesn’t say anything. “Things just happened and I’m so sorry you didn’t get invited.” Still nothing. “I never wanted to hurt you.” Crickets. Fricking crickets. “Please, say something.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“So what? Six years of friendship, just gone?” My voice cracks again, and I’m dangerously close to ugly crying.

“Boo hoo. Why don’t you go cry to your new best friend Abby?” Leah snaps.

“What the hell is your problem with her?” I ask.

“I don’t have a problem with her. It’s totally cool that you’ve gone for the upgrade.” Every word drips with passive aggressive undertones.

“An upgrade? What are you talking about?” I really can’t follow her logic.

“Female best friend four–point–fucking–oh. Now available in a cute little package. Perfect to come out to and share all your secrets with,” she says bitterly.

“She’s not your upgrade. She could never replace you,” I say. I can’t fathom how Leah would think she could.

“Then why did you come out to her and not me?” Leah asks. And there it is. There’s what’s really bothering her. I know it’s what’s bothering her, because the moment it’s out of her mouth, she looks like she regrets it. “Whatever, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. And honestly, I wanted to tell you. So badly. But it felt like the more time that passed, the harder it was. And Abby was new. She didn’t know much about me, so it wasn’t like she was going to relearn me. But with you? You know everything. The girlfriends and cookie cones and everything. It made it hard.”

Leah actually smiles. “Okay,” she says.

“And I really wanted to tell you. It just… I sat with it too long. It became this big deal.”

“I get that,” she exhales. “It’s like the longer you sit with it, the harder it is to talk about.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I let the silence between us stretch. “Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m in love.” That tips me over – my ugly cry has been building and it finally broke out. It feels so good to say that out loud, better than I ever could have imagined. Three little words, but they say such big things.

Leah’s head spins so quickly, I half expect it to disconnect from her body. “No shit.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I don’t know his name, but I’d really like to talk about it. Are you okay with that?”

She looks down. “What did Abby have to say to this?”

I hate that she’s making this about Abby, so there’s a slight hint of anger in my voice when I respond. “She doesn’t know. I haven’t told anyone about this.”

That is apparently the right thing to say. Leah smiles big. “I want to hear all about him.”

And I tell her. For the first time, I talk to someone about Blue. I’m only with her for about fifteen minutes, but I feel so refreshed when I leave her car.

I think this is the first time I’ve truly felt okay in a while. More than that, I feel so freaking lucky.

Until I get inside. And I pull out my phone. And I discover that I freaking pocket dialed Blue. I quickly hang up and panic. Did he hear all that? If he did, it’s the end. I’m going to sound like a freaking creep.

It isn’t until I get a cheesy text from him about how we’re pocket-dial buddies that I let go of the breath I was holding. I don’t know if I left him an absurdly long voicemail or if he answered his phone, but he obviously didn’t hear enough to think I am crazy.

I feel like I’m floating over the next couple of days. And then there’s the talent show. It’s only a week after _Oliver!_ ended and it’s amazing to see the transformation of the auditorium. Nick drags me along with him, because he doesn’t want to go by himself to see Abby.

We’re almost late, but Nick doesn’t seem concerned. “Garrett is saving us two seats. He’s there with Bram.”

“Really?” I ask. I can’t help but sound surprised, because Garrett and Bram rarely hang out with us.

“Yeah. When I said I was coming with you, Garrett suggested we all sit together.” Nick shrugs like it’s no big deal, so I guess it’s not a big deal.

As we’re entering the auditorium, I see something that reminds me of Blue – there’s a little boy holding a stuffed Barney doll. It reminds me of the adorable embarrassing memory Bram described in one of his earlier emails. And I can’t resist the urge to text him about it. Except, I almost walk into someone, so I know I need to wait until I’m in a seat. When we walk in, Nick spots Bram and Garrett. We end up sitting so I’m next to Bram and Nick’s on the other side of me.

I quickly finish my text to Blue and press send.

Now, I’m not a particularly observant person. A lot of things get past me. So, when I hear the ding, I don’t think anything of it. I never would have tied it to the text I just sent.

Except Bram’s reaction is so extreme, even I notice. Bram literally freezes. And he looks terrified. He reaches for his phone, angles it away from me, and turns his sound off.

My head is spinning. Is this coincidence? Or is he Blue? There’s no way it’s coincidence.

As the lights dim, I decide to take a chance. I look at him and he’s staring at me.

He doesn’t look away and I feel a sudden electricity form between us.

I try to find the answer in his eyes or something, but I only see eyes. I don’t get how people can communicate with their eyes. There’s got to be more to it than that.

But I guess, I also get it, because there seems to be something hidden in Bram.

I’m startled when intermission rolls around, because I was barely aware that the talent show had started. I feel a little guilty, but I didn’t miss Abby’s performance and that’s the whole reason I’m here, so it’s really all that matters.

I’m not sure if I should say something, but I know I can’t just sit here. “Bathroom,” I mutter to Nick.

I don’t go to the bathroom. I go outside. The air feels nice and cool.

“Hey.”

I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Bram.

“Hi.” I shiver, but it doesn’t have anything to do with the cold.

“So, I guess you know,” he says.

“I guess so.”

I don’t know what to say. It was always so easy to talk to Blue. Why is it suddenly so hard?

The answer comes to me a moment later. Because it matters so much more now. The last time we’d talked about meeting, he hadn’t been ready, and I don’t know if this changes things. If he’s still not ready, what does that mean for us? I’m scared to know the answer, but I have to ask. Or I’ll go crazy. “Look, I know you said you weren’t ready. So, what do you want to do?”

I’m still not facing him and I’m bracing myself for him to say that we need to be put on a pause or something, so I’m startled when he wraps his arms around me. We’re by ourselves and I walked far enough to the side of the building that no one can see us, but it still sends a shiver of fear down my spine.

His lips are so close to my ear when he speaks, it spurs my imagination to think about everything else he could be doing with those lips. I’m so distracted, I don’t hear what he says. I spin out of his embrace so I’m facing him. “I didn’t hear you,” I admit. I didn’t know it was possible to feel a color, but this is what the color red feels like. It feels tingly and hot. I know I’m blushing by the smile on his face.

“I’m still not ready for the world to know,” he says softly. “But you know who I am now. And I don’t want to pretend you don’t.”

My hand finds my way up to his cheek. “I can’t believe it’s you,” I whisper.

“You really didn’t have any idea?” he asks.

I shook my head. “The other day. I thought you were into Leah. And I never thought… Not in my wildest dreams.”

“Are you okay with it being me?”

“More than okay. This is great.” I want to kiss him so badly. But I don’t. Because I’m a freaking coward. And because I know intermission will be over soon. And because part of me doesn’t want my first kiss with him to be rushed. And I don’t want to be afraid to be seen.

Okay, there’s a lot of reasons. But they all make me want to kiss him more. I settle for the next best thing. My hand finds his, and for a minute, we just stand like that.

Then, I know we need to go back inside. It takes an actual effort to let go of his hand. I feel like I’m acting really freaking suspicious. I forget what acting normal looks like, but Nick doesn’t notice. So, I think I’m managing okay.

Once the lights go down, I feel that tingle of electricity. I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, which makes me confident that no one else can see me. I put my hand on Bram’s knee and as if he’d been waiting for that, his fingers lace through mine.

I can’t help but smile. This feels nice. I never want to let go. And I don’t. At least, not during the talent show. He doesn’t even seem to mind when I unintentionally squeeze his hand when I see Nora and Leah on stage. I had no idea. They are crazy good. Leah is beautiful and her arms are moving so fast, I can barely see them. Nora looks so confident on the guitar. I can’t tear my eyes away.

Too soon, they’re done. Too soon, the lights are coming on. Too soon, I have to let go of Bram.

I feel surprisingly stiff when I stand up. Most of the auditorium empties out before we try to leave. It’s not worth it to fight through the hoard of people. Nick goes first and Bram puts his arm on my shoulder before I can leave.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks quietly.

I look at him and I think I’m emitting nervous excitement. “I really do.”

“Come over? My mom is working.” He has this mischievous twinkle in his eye that I’ve never seen before. I kinda love it. It makes that tingly feeling come back.

I find myself nodding. I’m not technically grounded anymore, so I don’t think it will be an issue. I really don’t want to tell my mom where I’m going, but her deal for ungrounding me a day early so I could go to the talent show was that I needed to tell her about boyfriends when they become a thing. I realize, I may need to broach that conversation with her much sooner than I’d anticipated. Specifically, after I talk to Bram. I hope. For now, I know I need to tell her I’m going to talk to him.

“Nick drove me here.”

“I can drive you home afterwards,” he promises me. “What’s your curfew?”

“Uh…” I really don’t know. My parents have never really had to enforce a curfew. Usually, I tell them when I think I’ll be home and they’re fine with that, because I’ve never tried to stay out excessively late. And it’s not a school night, so there’s a lot of flexibility with that. “I mean, as long as it’s not too late, I think we’re fine.”

He nods. “Go see your sister. I’ll wait for you outside.”

I file out of the aisle and when I get to the lobby, Nora is already out. I give her a huge hug. “I can’t believe it. You were incredible!” I say excitedly. And then I notice Alice. And some red-haired dude; I’m pretty sure it’s Theo.

My parents propose a celebratory trip to The Varsity. The Varsity literally has the most delicious frosties. But I know Bram is waiting and that is way more important.

I should say, I was going to tell them the truth. But suddenly we are a huge group and I am not going to have this conversation in front of everyone. “Actually, I have a lot of homework to do. I’m still catching up from work I missed for the play.” Which is true. Teachers have been really flexible with that, but I have to finish it all up by Monday. I don’t have to feign my disappointment at missing The Varsity, because I do wish I could do both. I love The Varsity. We don’t go very often, and I hate to miss out on that. “I think I’m gonna go over to a friend’s house to get some help with Algebra.” I hate to lie, but maybe I can ask Bram a question about math while I’m there, so I feel a little less guilty.

I guess I’m convincing, because they don’t pressure me to go to The Varsity. And then I see Leah, so I excuse myself and go give her a huge hug.

Today was certainly full of surprises. After I sufficiently embarrass Leah, I find Nick and let him know I have a ride. Then I head outside. I half expect to find out I’ve imagined everything, and my heart goes into overdrive when I see Bram leaning against the wall.

I follow him to his car and slide into the passenger seat of his Honda Civic. It’s old, but comfy and incredibly clean. I make a mental note that he can’t go in my car until I give it a thorough cleaning.

He lives pretty close to the school, which is convenient, because I’m dying to talk to him. But it feels like this unspoken tension has built between us. As I walk to his house, I realize I don’t want to talk. I know what I want to do right now, but I don’t know if he wants the same thing.

He leads me to his bedroom and we both take a seat on the edge of his bed. His knee brushes mine and I ignite. I look at him and he’s already looking at me. And then his hand is on my knee and mine are on his waist.

It happens slowly, yet fast. He brings his lips to mine and we’re kissing. We’re kissing like we need to kiss to breathe.

I can’t believe this is his first kiss. It’s seriously magical.

I can’t wipe the smile off my face when we part. “Wow,” I whisper.

“Wow,” he echoes. He scoots down his bed so he’s leaning against his headboard and I do the same.

“What now?” I ask him quietly.

He sighs. “I don’t know. I hate to say it, but I think this is one of those things that we’re going to need to figure out as we go along.” He bites his lip. “Am I the worst if I ask you not to tell your friends for a little while. Except Leah. I get if you have to tell her.”

I’m so deliriously happy, I don’t understand what he means. “Why Leah?” I ask. Weirdly, my brain immediately jumps to thinking that maybe he does have a crush on her. Except, I think he sufficiently burned that bridge just a few minutes ago.

Bram looks deeply uncomfortable. “It just seems like you told her about Blue, so…”

I frown, trying to figure out how he could have possible known about that. And then it hits me. Like a ton of bricks. “You heard.” I don’t know if my words are audible, because the world seems like it’s unbalanced.

“You left me a thirteen-minute voicemail. I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted. “I thought maybe you called and found out who I was. By the time I realized you were talking to Leah, you were talking about me. And I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop.”

“Oh God.” I grab the pillow from his bed and put it in front of my face so Bram can’t see me.

Bram gently lowers the pillow. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

“Are you kidding? Did you listen to that voicemail? Did you hear everything I said?”

“Yes. And it helped me forgive you. Not that you really needed to be forgiven, but I was so mad when you didn’t guess it was me. Still, I decided to give you another chance. I felt like it took everything I had to put myself out there and I was anxious for over a week, waiting to hear from you and convincing myself that I had built this up to be something it wasn’t. Then I heard you and Leah, and I realized that I hadn’t been building this up. I realized you felt the same way I did.”

He didn’t say it, so I just stare at him. He implied it as closely as he could, but I need to hear the words. The time for assumptions is over. I need to hear it.

I guess the words have been trapped in him so long that he’s having trouble with them, because what comes out is, “did you mean what you said?”

“Every word,” I answer without skipping a beat. I realize he’s waiting for the same thing I am. He’s waiting to hear it. I don’t think I’m particularly brave, but I channel all of my courage into that moment. My heart pounds as three little words echo in my head. They’re easy to get out, because I feel them so strongly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” My heart can’t take this. Like, a human being is not supposed to feel this level of emotion. As we kiss, I’m pretty sure he can feel my heart pounding against my chest. And the kiss? It’s soft and sweet and makes me feel weightless.

We sit in silence for several minutes. But we never finished our talk and I think it’s kind of important. “So, who can we tell?” I ask. “I have to tell my mom. It’s kind of her condition for ungrounding me.”

“I figured we would have to tell family,” Bram agrees. “My mom was already suspicious that there’s someone I like. She’s been calling me lovesick for weeks. And… I don’t want to feel like we’re sneaking around and hiding this from them, but… I just don’t want the whole school to know. I think they would complicate something that could be really great if it’s just ours for a little while.”

“And what is that something? What are we?”

He doesn’t look at me and he plays with my hands. “What do you want us to be?”

“Well, do you think we’re ready for titles?” I’m not really asking if WE’RE ready, because I know I’M ready. It’s the HIM I’m not sure about.

“I know I am.” He says it so softly, like the words need to be handled with care.

“And if that title was boyfriend?” I ask. I try to sound nonchalant, but I know I sound a little too enthusiastic.

“I think I’d like that.”

“Then I think I can wait for my friends to know.” I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. I never, not in a million years, could have anticipated the roller coaster of today.

I don’t realize I’m dozing off until I hear my phone ringing. Bram is snoring softly, which may be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard, and I try to grab my phone without waking him up.

It’s my mom.

I answer and the first words out of her mouth are, “your car’s here.”

“Yeah, I got a ride with my friend. Actually, he’s asleep right now. I don’t know if he’s going to be able to drive me back,” I whisper. Bram still hasn’t stirred. I always figured he would be an incredibly light sleeper, but I guess I was wrong.

“That’s fine. Thanks for letting me know,” my mom says. To her credit, she doesn’t make a big deal about the fact that my friend is a guy. It almost makes me feel guilty because her big deal would be completely justified. “Are his parents okay with you staying or do you need me to pick you up.”

“I think they’ll be okay with me staying. I’ll call you in the morning.”

When I hang up with her, I look at the clock. It’s only 10:30, but I feel exhausted. I cover Bram with a blanket and pull his unused pillow off the bed. I take the ruffled blanket from the end of his bed and I’m incredibly comfortable as I cuddle up under it. I don’t know if it’s the surprisingly soothing sound of Bram’s snores or if it’s the result of an exceptionally emotional and exciting day, but I fall asleep quickly.

I sleep late. So late that I’m that uncomfortable, too-much-sleep drowsy. I look up at the ceiling, feeling disoriented. I can’t remember where I am or why I’m sleeping on the floor. It all comes back to me in an avalanche and I sit up, wide awake. Bram’s not in his bed.

I stand up and stretch in an attempt to energize my stiff limbs. I climb down the stairs and wander aimlessly until I hear vague, indistinct voices. I follow the sound to the kitchen. Bram sees me first. A huge smile spreads across his face and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. “Morning. Mom, this is Simon. Simon, my mom.”

I know from her smile that she knows exactly who I am.

“Hi Ms. Greenfeld. It’s nice to meet you.” I extend my hand and she shakes it. I think as far as first impressions go, this is okay. I think she likes me. And she definitely adores Bram. And is happy that he’s happy. And thank God, we’re not subjected to any lectures about how I spent the night.

He meets my parents later that day and I actually feel kind of relieved to get that out of the way. I know that’s not a great way of thinking about it, but like, the worst is over. Things shouldn’t be as much of a big deal moving forward. And god, this is the biggest deal that has ever occurred in the Spier household. And after Bram leaves, it’s an even bigger deal because that’s when the sex talks break out and the ground rules are laid out.

When I text Bram, I found out he had almost the exact same conversation with his mom. I have to laugh, because what else is there to do?

I’m so unbelievably happy over the next several weeks. Yeah, it’s hard hiding this at school because I have this really inconvenient habit of staring and Bram has become my new favorite person to chronically stare out. And it’s hard to keep this from my friends. Judging by the looks they’ve given me, I’m 99% sure they think I have a crush on Bram. I’m also pretty sure that they think I’m crushing on a straight guy, because lately, Abby has gotten particularly reassuring that I’ll find a boyfriend.

I don’t bring up telling our friends. I agreed that Bram would get to take his time, with no pressure from me. I want that for him, but I also want him to want to tell our friends right away, which is a weird feeling. I understand him wanting to wait though.

Just over three weeks after the talent show, Bram and I go on our first date. We just go to see a movie and we probably look like two dudes hanging out until we get to the dark theater. Once the overhead lights diminish and we’re practically invisible to other movie goers, we drop our guards, just a little. He holds my hand and I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s the most we can do in public. Even in a small, dark theater, there’s only so much we’re willing to risk.

But it’s perfect. It’s never going to be enough, but it is so much more than I thought I was going to get at this point. I’d been so surprised when Bram asked. I don’t even know if I officially said yes or if I just kissed him. I probably just kissed him.

I guess I should have known better than to believe that we could keep this from everyone, because that Monday at school, this kid comes up to me right before lunch while I’m at my locker.

“Hey. Simon, right?” I don’t recognize him. He’s this tall, super skinny kid with red hair and freckles.

“Uh, yeah. And you are?” I ask.

“I’m Jason,” he says. He glances around as if to make sure we won’t be overheard. It makes me nervous. “Look, I saw you on Saturday. With that kid, Bram.”

Not. Again.

I’m so sure he’s going to threaten to out Bram that I preemptively fill with this intense fury. What kind of goddamn luck do I have that this is happening again? Did I reach my happiness quota? Is everything going to fall to shit now? I can’t take this. Why can’t I just have something? Martin found out about Blue and now this random kid knows about Bram? “What do you want?” There’s way more bite in my words than I mean there to be, but I’m pissed. This kid doesn’t even know me. The only thing he knows is that I’m gay… and dating Bram. Martin didn’t know me either. Is that what makes it easy to do shit like this?

Jason actually looks startled. “Hey, calm down. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“What do you want?” I repeat. My voice is still shaky, but there’s something else in it now. I’m scared. I don’t think Bram and I will survive this. “Please, whatever it is, I’ll figure out. Just don’t tell anyone about Bram.”

This kid looks taken aback. “I think you misunderstood me,” Jason says slowly. “Look, can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Why? So you can beat me up or something?” I’m so on edge and I’m waiting for him to drop the bomb of what he plans to do.

I’m prepared for just about everything. Except for what he says. He’s a rambling mess and his words come out so fast, they almost blur together. “No, you really don’t understand. I’ve been working up the courage for weeks to talk to you, but I never could. And then I saw you on Saturday and it made me so hopeful. Because I never saw a point in coming out if nothing could come of it, but you’ve done it all and now it looks like you’re with someone or at least dating and I could really use some advice.”

My mind is spinning. “You’re…” I don’t finish. I am just as bad as the people I’ve complained about with Bram. Because it never occurred to me that he’s gay. He walked up to me and before he even spoke, I assumed he was straight. I’m the worst.

“Gay, yeah,” he finishes. His face flushes so deeply, I can barely see his freckles.

“Cool,” I say. I hate to blow off lunch, but this kid really put himself out there and I made it extra difficult for him to ask for help. I don’t think I would have gotten as far as him if our situations were reversed. The least I can do is try to give him whatever advice he needs. “Follow me.” I wonder if I should tell him how bad I am at advice.

I decide against it. Besides, maybe I’ll be able to give okay advice about this.

This poor kid. I think he really just needed someone to listen. He needed someone that gets it to hear him. I don’t give much advice, except to tell him not to hold himself back. Which is so much easier said than done. I think he feels better by the time the bell rings. He got a lot out. And I think missing lunch was worth it because I had Blue when I was going through what Jason’s going through. He doesn’t have anyone.

So, I did my best to answer questions like, “how did you know you were ready?” and “were you afraid?” and “what did you do when kids made fun of you?” and “what do I do if my parents can’t accept this?” I give him my number and tell him to reach out if he ever needs anything.

Later that day, Bram walks into my bedroom without knocking. “Who was that kid?” He asks. He sounds weirdly breathless.

I look over at him confused. “Huh?”

“That kid. The one Abby saw you talking to outside your locker. And then you disappeared with him, which according to Abby is the most wildly romantic thing to ever happen to you. Not true, by the way,” he says. “But who is he?”

And then I’m laughing. And it’s not because what Bram said is remotely funny, but it’s because I realize he’s jealous. And it’s so strange to me that he’d be jealous. I don’t think I’m worth jealousy. And he looks so freaking hot right now. Jealousy puts this wild look in his eyes that’s making my stomach do somersaults.

“What’s so funny? Look, I’m not accusing you. I just… I don’t know. An hour of Abby gushing over how you might finally have a boyfriend got to me.”

I stand up and walk towards him. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not.” But his voice cracks like it always does when he lies.

I step up on my tippy toes, because he’s several inches taller than me. Which I love. But it makes it difficult when he’s avoiding eye contact.

I gently tilt his head towards me. “I love you. Not some random kid in the hallway.”

“I know and that’s not it,” he says softly. “I trust you and I know that you would never cheat on me or anything. I just… I want everyone to know. I never want this to happen again. It’s not about thinking that you spent lunch with a different guy, which I still want to know about if you can tell me. I don’t like the idea that anyone thinks you’re with someone else because I want them to know you’re mine.” He looks away. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean that to sound as possessive as it did. I just meant. I want them to know we’re together. When they see you disappearing with a random guy, I want them to know that it means nothing because you’ve got me. Unless I’m that random guy.”

I giggle. I can’t help it. I sit down on my bed and wait for him to join me. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret this. You gave me far more time than I had any right asking for,” he promises me. “I think I’ve been ready. I’ve just been scared, but today? I was more…”

He looks like he’s fumbling for his words. I’ve never seen him like this before. “Jealous,” I supply for him. I feel like I shouldn’t love jealous Bram as much as I do.

He nods in agreement. I lean my head on his shoulder he wraps his arm around my waist. He kisses the side of my head and it causes this warmth to spread down my neck and back.

“That kid in the hallway? He’s this sophomore named Jason. He’s gay. And he’s struggling with knowing when to tell his friends and family. He didn’t think there was a point in coming out in high school, because he didn’t think anything could come of it. But… don’t get mad. He saw us on our date. And he got hopeful that maybe there was a chance for him to meet someone in high school,” I explain quietly. I don’t tell him everything that Jason shared with me, because I think Jason has a right to his story, but I tell him enough, so he’ll understand.

“Oh.” I can practically hear Bram’s relief.

“Yeah.” We sit in silence for a few minutes. “When can we tell people?”

“Whenever you want. You can text them now if you want. Or tell them in person. It’s up to you,” he assures me.

I consider texting them, but decide against it. This feels like a face to face thing. Then I think about how I found out about Abby and Nick. I think about how they just showed up one day holding hands. It wasn’t this big deal, or this big announcement and I want that.

I know we can’t do the hand holding thing, but there is something we can do. “What if we don’t tell them?” I ask quietly.

“What? I really want them to know.” He looks like he’s getting ready to convince me.

“And they will. But what if we don’t tell them? What if we just stop hiding? What if we show them that this is no different than if they were dating someone?”

“Can we do that?” he asks uncertainly.

“Why not?” I ask. I have to admit, it might not go this smoothly, but I love the idea of not making this a big deal. And really, it should be that simple. I don’t think I ever officially said out loud that I was dating Carys. I never had to. I just… you know, dated her. I love the idea of just being able to not pretend anymore. Without all the fanfare that would come with a big announcement.

So, the next day, we meet up outside my locker before first period. The tips of our fingers touch for just a moment. “Ready?” I ask.

“Ready,” he confirms.

We walk into English together and sit down side-by-side on the couch. And honestly, it probably seems much more natural than whatever the hell we were doing before. I pretend I don’t have my book so I can read off of Bram’s copy. And his knee brushes mine and so then paying attention in class is a lost cause because who could concentrate after that?

We walk into the cafeteria side by side and sit down. I pull out a pint of milk – the only thing he asked me to bring for lunch. He pulls out two cups of mini Oreos out of his bag. I could kiss him right there.

“Sweet,” I say excitedly. I pour the milk into each of our cups and our arms brush ever so slightly as he hands me my spoon. I mix up my Oreos and clink my spoon against his. “Cheers.”

Honestly, I don’t expect this to be enough for anyone to pick up on it. But Abby is looking at me like her eyes are saucers. And I know what she wants, but I’m not going to tell her, because we agreed. No more of a big deal than it would be for anyone else. So I shrug. And Bram and I continue eating.

In Algebra, we’re put into partners to work on the practice test from the textbook and I’m grateful that Bram and I sit next to each other, because we’re paired up. I can practically feel Abby’s glare burning a hole into us as we hunch over the textbook.

Abby intercepts me after class. “Are you and Bram together?” she asks breathlessly.

“Yeah,” I confirm. I try to sound nonchalant.

“And you didn’t tell me?” She actually sounds insulted.

“You didn’t tell me about you and Nick,” I point out.

“Yeah, but this is different.”

That inexplicably makes me mad. “Why? Because we’re gay?” I snap. I instantly feel bad. “Sorry. We just… we didn’t want to make a big deal about it. We’re not hiding it, but we’re also not acting like this is the only thing that defines us.”

Abby still looks hurt. “You know I don’t have a problem with you being gay, right?” She has a slightly defensive tone.

And of course, I know that. So, I don’t know why she felt the need to say it. I don’t think I implied that she had a problem with me being gay. I’ve never thought that. “Yeah, and?” I ask.

“This isn’t about you being gay,” Abby says slowly. I feel like I’m missing something.

“Then why is this a big deal?” I ask. I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t understand how this went so bad so quickly.

“I guess it’s not.” But she doesn’t sound like she means that. And she kind of storms away.

I watch her go, my mouth slightly agape. What just happened?

I text Bram to see if he has any thoughts on what happened. Except, Bram is a model student, so he’s not hiding his phone in his textbook to check his text messages. I know I probably won’t hear from him until after school. And then I’ll only have a few minutes with him before he has to go to practice. In the off-season, they have practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the players that don’t do a winter sport.

I debate crashing his soccer practice. I don’t know if it’s too much, but if I go to soccer practice, I’ll be able to see Nick and find out why Abby’s acting weird.

I decide to run it by Bram after school. I figure, if he’s uncomfortable with it, I’ll just drive home.

He’s not. Because he’s freaking perfect. We linger as long as we can before he absolutely has to go get changed or he’ll be late for practice. I go to the bleachers and I’m surprised when I see Abby there. I experience a brief internal conflict as I weigh the pros and cons of going to talk to her versus backing away slowly and pretending I was never here.

The latter seems childish, so I cautiously approach her. “Hey,” I say quietly. She looks up at me and I can practically see the conflict in her eyes. “Can I sit?” She nods. She doesn’t say anything and my urge to avoid is battling my urge to know what the hell is going on. “Why are you being weird?” It sounds so much meaner than I want it to. “I’m sorry. I mean. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she says softly. “I did.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I never thought that you would have a boyfriend and you wouldn’t tell me. I mean, you came out to me and I guess I just thought that meant you would tell me everything. I get not telling me about Martin, but this? I get why you thought I made it about you being gay, but that wasn’t it. I thought it was a big deal because I love you and I love seeing you happy. I would’ve told you about Nick and I sort of did in French, but you didn’t have your phone that weekend. I just… I want these to be things that we talk about. And I took it personally when I realized that maybe you don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry,” she says softly.

I feel like I deflate. “No Abby, I’m sorry.” And I am. I should have known that this is what it would be about. Abby isn’t the kind of person that makes a big deal out of nothing. “I don’t mind talking about it. I just don’t want to talk about him like it’s a novel thing. Like he’s my boyfriend and I love him and all, but if you’re not going to talk about Nick, I didn’t think I had to talk about Bram.”

“I want to talk about Nick, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she admits.

I huff, partially from the cold and partially because I’m frustrated with myself. I suck at this picking-up-on-things thing.

“I think I maybe want to talk about Bram too,” I admit.

“And maybe I get to make the slightest big deal about the fact that you said you love him?” Abby asks. I can see the actual effort it’s taking her to be casual right now.

“I guess,” I say with a small smile.

And she does make a big deal, but in a super lowkey way. And she tells me about Nick and how everything’s been going with him. And she’s right. It is uncomfortable, but I suck it up. Because it’s also so nice to talk to someone that gets it. Like she gets why jealous Bram was such a turn on and she gets why I don’t want to make a big deal about it with everyone else. And I think she feels the same way. Because I get some of Nick’s annoying habits and I get how charming he can be when he’s schmoozing someone for something. And as weird as it is, it’s nice.

When practice is over and Bram joins us, I feel like something has changed between me and Abby. Bram is standing so his arm is touching mine but isn’t doing anything else.

“Everything okay?” he asks softly.

I nod. “We’re all good.” I stand up and look at Abby. “I’ll see you later?”

Abby nods. Her eyes are already on Nick.

I follow Bram out of the stadium. He hesitates by my car. He’s not looking at me when he says, “I told Garrett. I know you said you wanted to just let people see it, but I felt like I wanted him to hear from me.”

“It’s okay. I think I was being stupid anyway. We’ve gotta tell our friends. You’re right. It’s not fair for them,” I tell him.

“That must’ve been some talk you had with Abby,” he says quietly.

“It was,” I agree. “I was so hung up on it not being a big deal because we’re gay, that I never thought about the fact that it’s a big deal to our friends, just because they love us.”

It is with that in mind that I drive straight to Leah’s house. “You are not going to make a big deal about this, got it?” I say when she answers the door. “Bram is my boyfriend and I really wanted you to know that, but I don’t want to turn this into a thing.”

“Well thanks for telling me, but I knew,” she says. She’s mastered the deadpan and I can’t read her face right now. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“I know. I had this stupid idea of just dating him openly and not telling anyone, but I realized that wasn’t fair to all of you to try to get you to realize it for yourself,” I admit.

“So, it took you weeks to decide that?” She asks.

I snap my head up to look at her. “Weeks?” I ask. “Bram and I only decided this yesterday.”

“Yeah right. And all the eye fucking the two of you have been doing is just a coincidence?” she asks.

I look down and feel like my cheeks are on fire. I decide to ignore that. Nothing good will come out of acknowledging it. “Seriously. I found out who he was at the talent show, but we’ve been trying to keep it on the DL. You’re the first person I chose to tell… other than my parents.”

“Really?” Leah looks genuinely surprised.

“We weren’t that obvious, were we?” I ask. The thought makes me nervous, because I’m sure it’s not Bram that was obvious. For sure, it was me.

She looks at me with a weird smile. “Maybe it was so obvious to me, because once I saw something was there, it was really fucking obvious.”

I chuckle. “You’re the best, you know that,” I tease her.

She rolls her eyes. “Kind of.”

After that, it’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I thought it would be. I think part of me thought it was going to be as much of a shitshow as coming out had been, but this part has been so easy. I stay with Leah for a little before I head home. My mom’s working late and my dad has just pulled into the driveway, so dinner is pizza that my dad picked up on his way home. I grab two slices and go to my room. I call Bram, because we didn’t really talk much today and after talking about him so much, I really need to hear his voice. He answers almost immediately.

“How’d it go with Leah?” He asks.

“How’d you know?” I ask.

“Please. I know you.”

That makes me feel warm all over. “It went well. What are you up to?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“I wish. I’ve got to do Algebra homework. Not all of us are freaky math geniuses,” I can’t help the disdain that enters my voice. I freaking hate Algebra. It was all fun and games until we suddenly had to add and subtract rational expressions.

“Come over. I’ll help solve all your problems.” It’s so obvious he’s trying to be flirty, but I can’t help but laugh. It’s not because I find it funny, but because I love that we’re somehow this disgustingly cheesy couple. “What?” He asks innocently.

“If I come over, am I actually going to do homework?” I ask. “Okay, strike that. Because you might say yes. But that doesn’t actually mean yes. Not unless the answer to my next question is yes.”

“And what question would that be?” he asks curiously.

“Is your mom home?”

There’s a pause. “No,” he says reluctantly.

“I really have to get this done,” I tell him. I know for sure that I’m not going to get any work done at his house. It’s not even like he’s the problem. It’s me. And the fact that I have no will to do homework when I’m with him. And he has so much trouble focusing when I have no will to do homework. And it’s not like we do anything more than make out and talk, but time moves faster when we’re together. Somehow, a five-minute break from homework turns into hours. “We’re taking that test tomorrow. And this may as well be written in hieroglyphics.”

“What if I promise that we’ll do work?” He asks. “We have to figure out how to do homework together sooner or later and if you promise to be on your best behavior, I don’t see why it can’t work.”

I chuckle and have a stroke of genius. Really, I shouldn’t take credit for it, because he had initially asked if I was inviting him here. “If you really want to do homework, why don’t you come here?” I ask. “We’ve got pizza.”

“Deal,” he says. I get the idea that he would have been fine with anything as long as he got to see me.

He’s at my house just a few minutes later. And I do have to say, homework is better with him. Everything is better with him.

And he’s pretty good at explaining Algebra. Even if I hate it. And we don’t do anything, partially because my dad makes an excuse to walk by my bedroom every ten minutes. And partially because my mom makes this big show of coming into my room to tell us she’s home – we are both laying on my floor as Bram works through some problems with me when this happens. She pointedly pushes on the door to make sure it can’t open any more. I swear, she would take it off the hinges if she didn’t think that was crossing a line. We barely talk, because I can hear Nora’s every step in her bedroom and we don’t want to risk it.

So, the first chance we actually have to talk is when I walk him out to his car. It’s getting dark out. “Thanks,” I whisper. “I’m sorry we didn’t really get to talk. Freaking vultures. The lot of them.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. They just want to make sure we’re not having sex. I get it.”

I look at the ground and am grateful for the night, because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing, the way I do every time he mentions sex. It’s not a self-conscious blush. It’s an I-want-more blush. I think it’s because I’m getting really close to ready and I don’t know when we’re supposed to talk about it or how we’re supposed to talk about it.

“You’re really cute when you blush, you know,” he says gently. His finger brushes my cheek. Then he dips down and kisses me. And it’s too short. Because we’re outside and it’s pretty cold for February. And I’m sure my parents are glued to the window, watching our every move.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly. There are those three little words that cause me to spiral, yet calm me down at the same time. Three little words that cause my heart to soar and turn me into a blushing mess. Three little words that make me feel warm and safe.

Three little words that I’ll carry in my heart and I’ll turn into four.

“I love you too.”


End file.
